I was supposed to get the seventeen staples taken out today.
Well, that didn't happen.
Last night, at dinner, my oldest son's lunch decided to evacuate his stomach and intermingle with the dinner he was currently eating.
Yeah, fun times.
Then, in the middle of the night, his other end decided to join in the fun.
So we didn't get much sleep.
We didn't want to risk taking him on an 8-9 hour trip to Seattle and back, plus I didn't think I'd be able to make the trip by myself because I hadn't been out of the house in about two weeks, so we decided to reschedule.
We were supposed to get the pathology results today, as well. But you know, it doesn't really matter. We're going to do whatever needs to be done next. If the results come back in the best case scenario then there will be nothing else to do. That would be ideal. But if the results come back saying we need to do radiation and/or chemotherapy, then that's what we do next. I'm not going to screw around. I'm going to give myself the best chance to beat this shit. But I need to be healed from my surgery before we can start radiation, and I'm not healed, yet. Hence, it's fine we don't yet know the pathology results. We'll know soon enough. I'm thinking if it was excruciatingly awful, then I'm sure they would have contacted me by now. When we know, we will let you all know soon thereafter.
In the meantime, here's what's been going on since I updated you all last:
Well, maybe not completely nothing.
For the first week home I spent many more hours in bed than I did out of bed. You know, that's not a good thing. My body ached. Legs, neck, back, shoulders, and arms. It sucked. Yeah, I'd get up and walk around every day, but then I'd have to head back to bed after I did my laps. It's just all I could do. Yes, I slept a lot. That was good for healing, but it was murder on the rest of my body. These things still ache today. I am so looking forward to seeing my massage therapist. She's awesome, but I know I'm going to be knocked out when she gets done. I'm that bad off.
Then this past Sunday (a full week being home and 11 days after surgery) I was pretty down. Not depressed, more like "I'm tired of this shit" but I was too tired to do much about it other than lie in bed and listen to music. Reading was too tiring, watching Netflix was too tiring, writing was too tiring. I just wanted to lay in bed and listen to music and beat myself with "I'm tired of this shit. When's my tongue going to feel better? When will I feel my face again? Damn, my arm hurts, my back hurts, my legs hurt. When will I be able to swallow without pain? Alexa, play the Milk Carton Kids again." Pretty exciting day.
But the next day, Monday, I woke up feeling better. It was the first day I spent more hours out of bed then I did in bed. Rachel took the little guy to school, then came home and took the big guy to his appointment, then afterward they headed to Costco.
So I had some time to myself. It was nice. I watched the last two episodes of Jessica Jones on Netflix, which by the way is a series that I really did enjoy. I followed that by watching the documentary "We're Twisted Fucking Sister". You know, it's the era I grew up in, and yes I did enjoy it.
The next day I was alone again (Yes, that's a Dokken song) and I finished watching the documentary "History of the Eagles Parts 1 and 2." I enjoyed that, as well.
But I didn't just sit down to watch these shows. Instead, I walked. I swayed. I tried to sit as little as possible. I don't think I've ever watched a television show by standing through about the entire show.
But it helped.
The standing and moving helped me feel better.
The music helped me feel better.
Knowing Jessica Jones and Luke Cage are far more fucked up than me helped me feel better.
It was all good.
But then on Monday afternoon, Rachel brings home liquid Tylenol. Well, I can't swallow pills. I'm trying to get off the oxycodone because I have a slight allergic reaction to it, plus, it's oxycodone people. I don't need to be on that stuff for a long period of time.
Anyway, the liquid Tylenol:
She pulls it out of the bag and it's blue.
The flavor is called "Cool Burst".
"Cool" is not a flavor. Cool is Fonzie. (Look it up if you must.)
Look at that color.
And it tastes absolutely disgusting. Why is grape flavored reserved for kids Tylenol, while disgusting Cool Burst is for adults? Supposedly there's also Cherry Burst, but forget the "burst" thing, Tylenol, and just give me something fairly decent tasting to swallow. Don't try to be fancy. Ugh.
So around 5pm I decided to muster all the strength I had to get this down the hatch. The directions state to take 2 tablespoons of this stuff. I said screw that and took one tablespoon. I knew from the hospital stay that half the dose still worked for me.
And it did again.
About 30 minutes later my mouth was feeling pretty good. Not great, mind you. Not back to normal. But I felt I could swallow. So I decided to try these meatball things that Rachel got at Costco earlier. We had never had them before, but the boys had them when they stayed over at a friend's house while I was in the hospital. They ate them then, so Rachel thought she'd try it. I ate four of them. They were freaking tasty.
I took the Tylenol again the next night and then ate quite a bit of Chicken Alfredo. (Yes, this was the dinner my oldest got sick at.)
I was slowly getting actual food into me. Up to this point, breakfasts have consisted of one scrambled egg, while lunch, as well as several dinners, have consisted of tuna mixed with mayonnaise. It was good to eat something different.
On Wednesday, the day we were to head to Seattle to get the staples out and get the pathology report, I decided I had to leave the house. I hadn't driven or left the house in two weeks. My oldest was sick and so he was just going to lay around and watch television all day. Knowing that I was not going to want to watch what he wanted to watch, and that I didn't want to spend the day in bed, I dressed for the first time in two weeks and then headed to the college.
I missed my first class because I just couldn't get there any earlier. So I arrived during the middle of my second class. It was an absolute pleasure to see them and to see them diligently working. I got to help several of them with their math questions while I visited. It was nice to be back in the classroom.
Afterward, I visited with some colleagues and then left to pick up the little guy from school. He wasn't expecting me. I wasn't expecting to pick him up. But I needed to spend some time at the office, therapy and all, and ended up staying longer than I had anticipated.
All in all, I've had three pretty good days in a row. Each one slightly better than the day before. Maybe there is a light at the end of the tunnel. I just can't see it yet.
But I think I can feel it.